Morning glories
Morning glories put on one of summer’s more extravagant displays, considering that an individual flower barely makes it through the day.
The trumpet shaped blooms open in the morning in blue, purple, pink, white and striped combinations. By afternoon, many are already fading. By evening, they are finished. Then the vine does the whole thing again the next morning.
Most ornamental morning glories belong to the genus Ipomoea, a largely tropical and subtropical group. In Canada we grow them as annual vines, but their seeds can be considerably tougher than the plants themselves.
I planted ‘Grandpa Ott’s’ in my Toronto garden many years ago. I would not be surprised if descendants are still turning up there.
Getting them started
Morning glories like warmth. That matters more in regions with a short growing season because putting the seeds into cold, wet soil can mean slow germination or failure altogether.
Starting them indoors about four to six weeks before the last expected frost can buy valuable time. Morning glory seeds have a hard seed coat, so gardeners commonly nick or lightly abrade the coat before sowing, or soak the seeds before planting.
Once outside, give the vines full sun, reasonably well drained soil and something to climb. They twine rather than cling, so string, wire, fencing and narrow trellis supports work particularly well.

In warmer parts of the country, direct sowing once the soil has warmed can be quite successful. In shorter season regions, an indoor start makes it much more likely that you will get a good stretch of flowers before autumn frost shuts things down.
Don’t love them to death
This is not a plant that needs to be cosseted with fertilizer.
Morning glories can produce a tremendous amount of foliage when supplied with abundant nitrogen. If you are getting a magnificent green vine and precious few flowers, fertilizer may be part of the problem.
They are reasonably tolerant of dry conditions once established, although plants that receive adequate water can keep growing and flowering longer during hot weather.
The important ingredients are simpler: sun, warmth, enough water to keep the plant growing and something tall to climb.
One flower, one day
The common name is unusually accurate.
A morning glory flower usually opens early in the day and lasts only a matter of hours. Heat and bright sunshine tend to hasten its decline, while cool or cloudy weather may keep flowers attractive for longer.
That sounds like a rather poor bargain until you see a mature vine in bloom. A healthy plant continually produces new buds, replacing yesterday’s flowers with a new crop each morning.
The flower may be ephemeral. The display is not.
A few worth looking for
‘Grandpa Ott’s’, Ipomoea purpurea, is an old favourite with deep royal purple flowers, a magenta star and a light throat. It is vigorous and among the types most likely to leave seedlings behind.
‘Heavenly Blue’, Ipomoea tricolor, produces the enormous clear blue flowers many gardeners picture when they hear “morning glory”. It appreciates a long, warm season.
‘Flying Saucers’, also I. tricolor, produces irregular blue and white streaked flowers. No two are quite alike.
‘Carnevale di Venezia’ has white flowers marked with pink, while ‘Cameo Elegance’ combines rose violet flowers with variegated foliage.
Ipomoea nil, or Japanese morning glory, despite having nothing to do with Japan, has similar trumpet shaped flowers running blue to purple to reddish, often with a paler throat.
Moonflower, Ipomoea alba, reverses the morning glory schedule. Its huge fragrant white flowers open in the evening rather than the morning.
Cypress vine, Ipomoea quamoclit, has delicate looking star shaped flowers with finely cut foliage.
Will they come back?
Sometimes.
The plant itself is killed by freezing temperatures, but I. purpurea can produce plenty of seed. In favourable locations, seedlings may appear the following spring.
That is not the same thing as the vine being hardy. The parent is dead. Its children are simply moving in.
Ipomoea tricolor appears less inclined to establish itself this way in much of Canada. Cardinal climber and cypress vine are still less reliable self sowers, while moonflower generally needs such a long season to mature seed that volunteer seedlings are unlikely in most Canadian gardens.
If you do not want volunteers, remove developing seed capsules before they become dry and brown.
And if one gets past you, pull the seedling next spring. Cultivated morning glories are not particularly formidable opponents.
Morning glory or bindweed?
Bindweed is where an innocent looking trumpet flower earns itself a criminal record.
Field bindweed (Convolvulus arvensis) and hedge bindweed (Convolvulus sepium, reamed from Calystegia sepium in 2025) belong to the same plant family as morning glories, the Convolvulaceae. Both are perennial vines that spread by underground stems and roots, which is the root of the problem, so to speak.
Bindweed never seems to know when the party’s over. It winds around your cultivated plants and simply keeps expanding, year after year, uninvited and unafraid.
Ornamental morning glory is killed by frost. Bindweed just disappears above ground for the winter, then reappears from its underground network like nothing happened.
Field bindweed is the truly notorious one. Its extensive root system and knack for regenerating from even small fragments make an established patch extremely difficult to eliminate. Gardeners have been known to develop a facial twitch just discussing it.
Hedge bindweed deserves a little more nuance. It grows across much of Canada and includes both native Canadian forms and introduced ones. It can turn aggressive in cultivated soil, so although it may be native it can still be a problem.
The flowers offer some clues, though not foolproof ones. Bindweeds generally produce white or pale pink trumpet shaped blooms, rather than the deep blues and purples common in cultivated morning glories. Leaf shape and flower structure also differ between the two genera, for those who like to get up close and personal with their weeds.
The most telling clue may be what happens next year.
If the vine dies back in autumn and turns up somewhere new from seed, you likely have a morning glory.
If you pull it out and it returns from the very same patch of ground as though the conversation never happened, start suspecting bindweed. It rarely takes no for an answer.
Image credits
By: Dorothy Dobbie
Used with Permission
By: Dorothy Dobbie
Used with permission
By: Dorothy Dobbie
Used with permission
By: Dorothy Dobbie
Used with permission
By: Dorothy Dobbie
Used with permission
Further Reading
Genome sequence and analysis of the Japanese morning glory Ipomoea nil
Nature Communications, 2016
https://www.nature.com/articles/ncomms13295
For readers who suspect their morning glory has a secret life, it does. This is the paper behind the plant’s genome sequencing, and its long career as a favourite subject for plant geneticists thanks to a remarkable talent for spontaneous mutation.
Cardinal Climber, Ipomoea sloteri
Wisconsin Horticulture Extension
https://hort.extension.wisc.edu/articles/cardinal-climber-ipomoea-sloteri/
The fuller, friendlier version of that breeding story, including just how many failed attempts it took before cardinal climber became a garden plant instead of a footnote.


